


noodle descent

by orphan_account



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: Angst, Cocaine, Collars, Drugs, F/F, F/M, Fishnets, Heroin, Leashes, Mind Break, Misery, Pregnant, Racism, Watersports, music references, porstitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-02-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:00:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22698280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: noodle loses herself to drugs and prostitution. But like, angsty and shit.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	1. part 1

Noodle could feel the guitar in her hand. The weight was leaving bruises on her legs, tearing her hands to shreds. She needed a fix. She kept trying to hit the right notes, focusing on the audio of melancholy hill, trying not to remember the last time she'd played it. Trying not to remember that the last time she did she was dressed. Trying to ignore her hands shaking and screwing up chord after chord. Trying to ignore the way the lights were just dim enough so she could see the hungry eyes of the crowd, but just bright enough so she knew she was on full display.  
'nude-le'. it almost seemed like a clever pun when she'd first heard it. A glimmer of artistry in this hell was strangely enjoyable. Noodle could hear the clinking of drinks, the parlance of suits, the occasional demand for one of the waitresses to get on their knees. She was trying to focus on the song. She didn't have much of a voice for this kind of thing. Never did, but certainly not anymore. Her accent always sounded wrong no matter where she ended up. American's made fun of her for the English parts and the English made fun of her for the Japanese parts. When she was young it wasn't so bad. 2D would take the hits, Russel would freak people out, or Murdoch would give them something to really be mad at. But here, alone, naked, with every vibration of the guitar aching against her skin like a knife, she was alone. And like everything else, she was just trying not to think about it.  
The song ended, and a few people applauded, laughed, jeered and cat called. Noodle put the guitar down and a few drunks ooh'd at the full nudity. She stepped off the stage and 'took a pill in ibaza' came on. New music slamming out the old. The bass was pounding the back of noodle's head as she wandered through the clubhouse, looking for Alex. He'd invited her out, told her everything up front, didn't bother to disguise it as a legitimate gig. Just another moment of his monkey sent out to perform for the crowd. The difference was another dime bag, and he was rolling in it, why would it matter if she knew or not?  
"You were flat." Alex was sitting at the back of the room. Noodle folded her arms as she noticed how cold it was. She shook her head. "Yeah, bitch, you were. Third verse. You hit a flat note. I thought you were supposed to be good at this kinda shit?" Noodle looked to the client he was speaking with. Small, thin, unfitting suit, looked like a vulture. Half reminded her of her last producer. Alex pointed to the table. "down, slut." Noodle got on her knees and went under, feeling the wood sticking to her legs, the spilled beer and chewed gum underneath. Noodle put her head Alex's lap, waiting for him to ask her to start.  
"-And while I do know someone that could be of use to you, that kind of information doesn't come cheap. There's no guarantee to me that you won't bust his ass and I don't need that kind of attention."  
"for information?"  
"You're looking for a hit. This isn't some-" noodle tuned out. Another wall street broker looking to kill off the competition. She'd heard the whole thing a million times before. She tried to slip into a half conscious state on Alex's thigh, not exactly there but not asleep either. Just trying to make the pain stop. Noodle looked at her arm, watching the veins criss cross in swollen blue. She wondered if they got more swollen when she needed a hit. 'who already blew his shot, I hang around with old timers cause my name's a reminder of a pop song people forgot'. Stupid song. Least he still had money. Least he still had a job. Least he could make not playing an instrument work... whoever he was.  
noodle listened to the suitcase open and close, and then get set next to her. For a millisecond she'd thought about taking it and running. It wasn't a plan, of course, it was just a little fantasy. Even if she could get out of here with her skull intact, it wouldn't be worth it. She'd tried it before. Just went to another dealer, paid them what she had, and was back to square one. At least Alex wasn't beating her for kicks. His fingers snapped.  
"Slut, suck off our good friend Mr. welkins." Noodle shifted around under the table, wondering if a piece of gum was getting caught in her hair. Mr. welkins was protesting, but noodle didn't care. She'd been given an order, she'd follow it. Noodle didn't even acknowledge the dick as it sprang out in front of her. She just popped it into her mouth and got to work. It wasn't the worst cock she'd sucked today, so there was that much at least.  
"One of my favorite girls." Alex was talking above. "You should feel honored. You know she used to be famous?" Noodle cringed. Alex loved to talk about that, and she'd rather forget. "Yeah, she used to actually be the guitar player for gorillaz."  
"You mean... um...ramen?"  
"No, no, something else"  
"Noodle?" Noodle felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.  
"Yeah. She's let her looks fade a bit though, hasn't she?" Mr Welkins looked down and cringed a little. Noodle took the dick out of her mouth and ran her tongue up and down his balls, jerking him off. He was starting to go soft, so she ran a finger down his taint and licked along the glans, playing with parts that most women tended to forget. She had more than enough experience with all of it. Mr. Welkins coughed awkwardly and went back to business. Noodle knew what was expected of her. Be ignorable until things came to money. With his dick sucked there wouldn't be any problems no matter what he was being charged. Noodle kept welkin's dick in her mouth, moving back and forth at a snail's pace.  
"How did... I mean, how did she-"  
"How'd the lil slut end up on my doorstep?" Noodle tried to pay attention to something else. someone had scuffed the floor underneath her. That was interesting, right? "See, a few years back, the band broke up. People went their separate ways, and when that kind of thing happens to child stars that grew up, well, it makes them antsy." Noodle tried to remember the taste of Mr Welkins' dick, see if she'd had it before. maybe that would take her mind- "And of course, child stars are all natural sluts anyway." There was. A song. Playing. Right!? "Our lil friend here had to blow so many people to get into her band, it's no fucking wonder she can't sing for shit. doesn't make up for how god awful she is at guitar, but I guess with a child whore from some ass-backwards hellhole sucking them off, no one cared. So they put her on, dubbed over her garbage playing with real musicians and techno trash, etc. really just a fancy groupie." Noodle had to fight not to kill everyone there and then. she could, she fucking could. She could just bite down, and start punching and just let it all end in a flurry of blood and gunfire. Just end it all, right now.  
"Ahem, but that doesn't really-"  
"Well, I'm just setting a scene for you. You see, all this... not working, this false fame, in my mind, creates a need to numb it. So, she turned to smack. Usually rock stars turn to heroin, but coke was her first pick." Noodle blinked back tears, keeping her movements slow, quietly praying Mr Welkins wouldn't look down at her and see how much of Alex's speech was pure bullshit. Alex had said once or twice that she needed to sell it or she'd have to find her fix elsewhere. Noodle didn't want to test him. "I had to convince her a bit to start using heroin with it. think it suits her, doesn't it whore?"  
"Yes Alex."  
"What was that?"  
"ymmph, slmmg." Alex liked to be called 'slug', he thought the name made him sound cool somehow. Noodle called him Alex.  
"She does love her heroin. Now, while what we have here is a fine amount for the information I'd provided, the killer himself will be another 500 grand." Showtime.  
"500 grand! You caaaaahh~ fuuu-" Noodle took Mr welkin's dick as deeply as she could, swallowing and jerking him off with her throat.  
"Weeelll.. maybe 500 grand is a bit much. what would you say to 475?"  
"I-gh-I-gh-I-" noodle was working the poor bastard for everything he had. the withdrawal shakes made it so she couldn't play guitar, but at least she could fucking do this. Noodle cupped his balls and kissed along his sack a little "I don't- I don't thi-" She dropped away from his stones and went back to throating him, bouncing up and down on his dick.  
"Alright, 450. That's my final offer."  
"I-AAAAAH!" Mr welkin's came down noodle's throat, thick ropes of cum shooting out of her mouth and nose. "Fuck... y-yeah. Sure, whatever. wait what?"  
"450 it is. I'll see you Sunday with the money." Noodle pulled herself off of Mr Welkins' dick and put her head back on Alex's lap.  
"Oh... um... yeah, sure. Sunday." On shaky feet, Mr Welkin's stood up and stumbled out of the bar. A part of her knew he'd tell every tom dick and sally who he'd seen there, leaving out the details of why, and she'd have another flood of customers. Tomorrow night would be busy. She looked at the empty seat mr welkin's had been in, her knees getting sore. She looked up at Alex pleadingly, but he wasn't paying attention. He was fishing a baggy out of his coat pocket.  
"450. well, slut, I think this calls for a little celebration don't you?" Noodle's heart spiked, she bit her lip, she couldn't stop herself from nodding like an idiot. Alex dumped most of the baggy onto the table, pulled a straw and snorted a line, sighing with contentment. Noodle stared up at him, waiting for him to call her into a seat to share the banquet. Alex looked back down at her. "Fuck are you lookin at?" Noodle blinked and pointed up to where she assumed the coke was "nah, nah, not for you. Not until you wrap up here. go put on some heels and clock in for 'Alison' on the register. She's busy." Noodle kept staring up, pleading, trying desperately to make the best puppy dog eyes she could. "...Alright fine." Alex unzipped his fly, letting his dick flop out. Noodle licked at it, already knowing where this was going. It couldn't have been more pathetic, but she needed something to stop the shakes, especially if she was going to be on her feet for the next 7 hours. Alex sprinkled a line of white across the top of his dick, head to pubes. It wasn't exactly a full line, Alex knew how to cut it right with table salt, sugar, whatever was lying around. He'd called it "whore's coke". The line wasn't a thick one either, noodle would have to be conscious, in heels, carrying beer to tables and performing other services for the next 7 hours.   
Noodle coughed and shook her hands. Better. She was better. she wiped her nose, pulling out a pube. Yeah, way better. She just needed to get the day over. that was fine. she'd be fine. she could feel a nosebleed coming on. Everything felt like blood. Amazing. she was amazing. She just-  
nope, nothing left on it but sweat. she was good tho. She just wanted to make sure she wasn't better. she wanted better. but that'd have to do. she looked around. What was she supposed to be doing again? last week she'd been sent here to cover a shift, right? or was that last month? two weeks ago? today? tomorrow? She put Alex's dick in her mouth and started rocking her head back and forth. He was usually her first client after all. Alex wasn't complaining. God, she could feel everything in her mouth right now. It was like a second pussy. Groove. Vein. Head. .0001ml pre cum. pube. Freckle. She was in the zone. She just needed to keep going. Alex shot off into her mouth and she swallowed on instinct. It'd been conditioned into her, plus the coke was making her a bit into it. Alex patted her hair like a well trained dog.  
"good girl." noodle could feel every follicle of hair on her head. It felt like they were being pulled out of her scalp. She needed to get this shift over with. Fix would be next. Fix would be next. She crawled out from under the table and heard her knees crack as she stood up. Alex opened a bag and dropped a pair of high heels on the ground.  
"...Where's the uniform?" She asked glancing from the table to the kitchen, then at a few of the scantily dressed waitresses.  
"No uniform tonight." Noodle scratched her fingers, feeling the skin pull. She nodded a little. Ok. Ok. She could make that work. She'd be fine. Just a long shift. "Better get going. Alison'll be pissed if you punch in late." Noodle nodded a little, slipping her feet into the heels. She scratched her arm a little and then clocked in. Long night. going to be a long night.  
  
Noodle tripped over her heels again. The coke was already wearing off, her feet felt like they had rivets keeping the shoes to her, and she'd already taken the company allotment of aspirin that they were going to give her. And of course, every single table she passed had to grab or smack her on the ass. Every. Single. One. She was making more trips to refill beer that she'd spilled all over herself or the floor then she was taking actual orders. She was sticky. She hurt everywhere. Her teeth were starting to grind in her skull. But it'd been an hour. That was what mattered. She'd killed an hour.  
"Hey, bitch, I ordered this like a half hour ago." Noodle hid her face as she grimaced putting the drink in front of the customer. Fat, ugly, balding, red hat, plaid shirt, jeans, looked like the kind that beat his (hopefully) ex, and hadn't heard of the female orgasm.  
"sorry sir." She mumbled, keeping her voice down.  
"Ohhh, you-a so soooorrry." He was already hammered, but that didn't make the blatant racism go down any easier. "suck me off, cunt." Noodle's heart sank and she bit her lip, tasting the blood. She sank to her knees and unzipped his fly. Clearly, he hadn't heard of bathing either. Noodle coughed a little, and pulled his dick out of the overused underwear. Somehow unwrapping it and seeing it in person did not make things any better. Noodle bit her lip a little more, hoping to cover the inside of her mouth a little more so she wouldn't have to taste anything. She moved in closer and put the god awful thing inside of her, already trying not to vomit.  
Noodle started rocking her head back and forth, mostly just trying to get the drunk bastard to finish up. Problem was, he wasn't even hard. Noodle couldn't really tell, she figured it was tiny anyway, but slurping on it and getting no resistance, this was going to turn into a big problem.  
"Ah, fuck it. I don't need head right now." He muttered somewhere above, holding noodle's head in place. Noodle looked confused and then a horrified realization crossed her mind and her expression sank. She looked up pleadingly, shaking her head as hard as she could. The man leaned back, putting noodle's head as close as he could to his hips. There was an awful moment between realizing what he was going to do and it actually happening, and then bitter liquid started pouring into noodle's mouth. Tears started to spring up in her eyes.   
"Every drop you spill is coming out of your tip." He muttered. Noodle knew he was too drunk to really care either way. She knew he wasn't going to tip anything anyway. But, the idea of just getting another 8 cents worth of coke to block this day out was just enough of a motivation. It killed her throat, it made her stomach want to die, she almost couldn't keep going, but with every scrap of will power she had, she kept it down. He pulled his dick out, flicking the last droplets and a bit of her own spit onto her face.  
Noodle was on the verge of tears. She was kneeling in front of someone she'd used to write songs about revolting against, drinking his piss like a good little servant, only there for another hit of cocaine, desperate to go home or be anywhere else. An awful, awful part of her remembered the last time she'd really performed. The place had sold out, the fans had been bouncing, the lights shone down on her, hell she even made friends with one of her fans out of nowhere. And now...  
Now some random cunt was dumping his beer on her head.  
"Whoops. Get me another slut." Noodle stood up, walking back to the kitchen, holding back her tears.


	2. part 2

Noodle wiped the tears from her eyes and took a shaking breath out. Everything hurt, she could feel the beer sticking to her skin, and she was shaking from... she didn't even know what. Because she needed a fix or because she was so angry, or just from the cold air across her naked skin. She put a hand on the sink, and watched the chef silently throwing things into the deep fryer. Hissing, burning fat, and the smell of overdone chicken crashed against her. She wanted to go home. She didn't even know where home was supposed to be, but it didn't matter. Nowhere could be worse than this. The chef slid her a basket of wings, overloaded with sauce.  
"Table 3" He muttered, wiping a hand on his apron. Noodle stared at the wings, not moving. "Said table 3." He repeated, a little louder. Noodle wiped some tears into her fist. The chef sighed and put something else in the fryer, then ambled over to the window. "Oi, Alice, got another one having a breakdown, take these over to table 3." Chef ambled back to the fryer, shaking it a few times. The room fell silent, save for the popping fat and grease. The chef reached into his pocket and pulled out a thin tube of paper, putting it in his mouth. He looked back as though wanting to say something then shrugged and burned the joint on one end. Noodle noticed the reeking odour of grass that had been in the room since she'd entered.  
"eat." Chef said plainly, dumping the basket in front of her. Grease was dripping off the chicken in rivers, the sauce was almost masking the smoke for how strong and overused it was. Noodle wasn't hungry. If anything, everything hurt but her stomach. Chef exhaled, a cloud of smoke billowing out of his nose. He took the paper out of his mouth and grabbed a wing from the basket, shoving it into his mouth, grease and juices slapping against his tongue, dribbling onto the table in small rivers. "Picky?" Noodle didn't move. Chef chewed, the bone sticking out of his mouth replacing the joint. "Let me give you some advice. You either live up there... and abandon your freedom, or you live down here, and you abandon your pride." Chef grabbed the bone out of his mouth, his teeth digging into a tougher piece of meat and pulling back. The meat broke off, and he tossed the rest of the bone into the trash. "or I could just kill you? Save you time. Be fun to tell them they were eating people instead of veal." Noodle looked down at the basket again. Chef snapped in front of her face. Noodle looked up.  
"Look they might like the silent act, but I asked you a fucking question. Do you want me to kill you or not?" Noodle shook her head "What?"  
"No, I don't want you to kill me." Chef reached into the basket and grabbed another wing, chewing with his mouth open, hot sauce the same colour as his eyes dribbling onto the table.  
"Then, pick a door." 

Noodle left the kitchen, her teeth grinding, her left fist clenched, trying as hard as she could to stop herself from shaking, carrying another tray of food and beer. 2 more hours and she could go home. 2 more hours, and she would have her fix. 2 more hours and she could just pass out on that fucking mattress with a syringe in her arm. Chef was right, of course. She could always go back to living like a regular 9-5, shuffling papers or taking orders. She just needed one more hit of course. Just had to get through today, and she'd be fine.   
Noodle could already see how things would go. Get an interview at a McDonald or some kind of office place, being able to speak two languages would help, pay for her rent on minimum wage, maybe marry a nice husband, have a few kids... it'd work. No, it'd work. She just needed to finish up here. 3 more tables. Someone burst into the bar, a woman slung over his shoulder, clearly drunk, passed out, or on the verge of death.   
"Hey, everybody. Check out what I found." OK, 4 more tables. Noodle wiped her mouth and stood up, watching the crowd gather around him like flies. Noodle shambled to the middle of the group, pushing person after person out of her way. A shocked cry sprang from her mouth as she saw who was dead in the man's arms.  
"Found her in an Arizona bar dumpster while I was collecting from a waitress. I figured I should bring her in, get a show out of her." The man grabbed her purple hair, and pulled the corpse's head up so noodle could look herself in the eyes. "What do you think, slut, wanna give us a show?" Noodle stared into the robot clone of herself. It was 5 years younger than her now, but it felt like an eternity. The hole in her head was still un patched, she had bites taken out of her skin in some places, and clearly whoever had thrown her out had done so after some generous use already. Noodle took a step back, but someone grabbed her and held her down, staring at the abomination in front of her.  
"Caaaaalm down. This was the whole point of you taking Allison's shift in the first place." Noodle wanted to throw up. Oh, god, the hole in her head must've been filled with every kind of insect or rodent that could've lived in that dumpster. "I know you're excited for the idea, but we have a little incentive for you." Noodle looked to the man on her left, and he held up a sandwich bag full of white. "Pure black tar. Cocaine comes later, but you've been jonesing for some of this for a while, haven't you?" Noodle gave a half nod. "How about, you take a little hit now, then you get the rest once she's done with you?" noodle looked back and forth between the rag doll in front of her and the baggy to her left. One last hit, right? Could always just bounce anyway. Just start breaking bones and leave. Not like they could get her online anyway, or if she wasn't quitting, she could take the baggy and make a real last hurrah for this bullshit. Hell, she could use it to start weening herself down. It was a win win, right?  
Noodle nodded hesitantly. Someone helped her to her feet, guiding her to a table. Her body was singing. She could feel every over stressed nerve and neuron demanding her to get up and run to the table. She was so close. So close!   
Noodle fell onto the table, grabbing the syringe, spoon, tube. The feeling of her veins getting cut was the last thing she needed to feel. So close. So close. She slapped at her arm a little, and the big blue one became clear. They'd given her a dime bag, just something to start with. It was clear to everyone she was just going to take the whole thing and run otherwise. The lighter bit into her skin on the first click, and her teeth clenched into the tube harder. Second click caught fire. Finally, fuck. The spoon was bubbling, someone in the background slammed something on a table. Noodle put the syringe into the goo drawing the taste out, blew on it a bit for luck, carefully squeezed the air out and-  
...  
that was better  
she felt  
like kinda  
...better  
really better  
Noodle looked to her left, feeling like her eyes were starting to kinda close. maybe they were. maybe she just didn't want to bother closing them, but she could like, sleep with her eyes open, right? That'd be fine. Someone was cracking some like... electrical stuff over his head. Lotta sparks. Pretty, or something. Noodle started rubbing her stomach. Heheh... felt pretty good. She looked down at herself and remembered she was naked. She'd completely forgotten about that. Then again that was like... a while ago, right? When she was serving tables it was constant, but like, now?  
Nahhh, it was fine. No one was like, groping her yet. She was fine being naked, clothing hurt, anyway. She didn't even notice when she started rubbing herself a bit. She wasn't really noticing anything, to be fair. Someone could be like, kicking her there and it's not like she could feel it. Felt interesting to just feel around in there though. Like not hot, just, neat to feel her lips on her fingers. Noodle shivered, suddenly wishing she could put her clothes on again. Head spinning, she tried to sit up in the booth, almost slipping down under the table again. Noodle looked down and cringed. She couldn't believe she'd been in that mess for like... so fucking long. She slapped a hand on the table and pulled, straightening herself enough to look up.  
Oh... oh, shit, was that her? Why did she have a hole in her head? And a leash in her hands? And... no, wait, that's right, she'd made a bet... bargain... whatever. God, why did she have to shake like... like one of those... how would you describe that? It was... um.... like when one of those gas powered engines starts to go, and the whole thing trembles and shakes from every individual element? Yeah... like that, but it was her arms and head. freaky shit. kinda sur-  
Noodle coughed feeling herself get yanked by her throat with the collar and leash. Noodle blinked, and looked up. Oh... ok, didn't know we were starting.  
"You. Inferior noodle." Cyborg noodle jerked her hand to herself. "Me. superior noo-noo-noo-noodle." A spark flew from the hole in her head. "Crawl. Animal." noodle laughed a little. Fuck it right? She was fine. She started crawling behind the robot as it marched stiffly around the bar. A few people took out phones, laughing and taking pictures. She hoped they wouldn't be spread around or anything. Ugh, it'd be pretty shit if TMZ got on her ass or something.  
Cyborg noodle stopped so suddenly that her new pet slammed into the back of her legs, thankful for the small amount of non-metal cushioning. The robot pulled it's shorts down, dragging noodle closer to it's behind. Noodle wrinkled her nose a little. Her twin still smelled like a dumpster, and she was never great with janes anyway. Cyborg noodle dragged the leash in closer. Eh, fuck it. Noodle started running her tongue along the insides, really hoping that she hadn't been dumped in anything too bad. She really had... god it was like she was fermented in booze, grease, and cum, and eating her out was like licking a fleshlight.  
"You were a model for me. I was supposed to replace you." Noodle hazily looked up at the cyborg, the thing's head turned around 180 degrees to stare down at her like she was possessed. "You are pathetic, and your inebriation levels are too high to realize you are being insulted." Noodle closed her eyes, half shrugging and went back to tonguing. Fuck it. So she was pathetic, whatever. She was also pretty numb and like, fine with what was going on. Who cared?  
Cyborg noodle yanked her shorts up, and started dragging the girl to the stage, her head spinning back to the front of her. Noodle crawled along, still dragged by her throat, but still not really feeling the collar either. cyborg noodle tied her to the chair and picked up the guitar noodle had discarded to the left of stage. Noodle wasn't really sure where she was going with this. She wasn't just making robotic movements, she'd made smoother movements before, this was more like... confirmed movements? Like every single action was an extreme one instead of a bunch of tiny important ones.  
Cyborg noodle held the guitar in her knees and pushed her fist across the strings. A single chord came out over the audience. "I will be noodle. You are no one." A second past and noodle laughed. Sure, sure. Whatever. Noodle pulled down cyborg noodle's shorts and went back to what she was doing. Might as well give them a show if the toy was broken, right? Cyborg noodle kept trying to strum, throwing her fist across the strings, making awful sounds come out one at a time. It was another minute before finally one of the strings broke on the guitar, the rest snapping after the next strum. Noodle looked up at her robot self.  
"You done?" Cyborg noodle jerked her head down.  
"No. I have one more thing to play." She threw the guitar off stage, hearing the thing crash somewhere in the background and picked noodle up by an arm and her ass. Noodle was in complete confusion, as her cyborg self held her by the throat and hovered a hand over her pussy.  
The cyborg then played her instrument.  
Noodle moaned and cried out as cyborg noodle touched and vibrated inside of her in ways she hadn't felt before. Noodle didn't know what or how, but the way she was touching her, she wasn't numb wherever that was. Noodle cried out and shook, losing herself in the exstacy. She couldn't play for shit, but goddamn could this thing push her buttons. Noodle jerked, spasmed, and finally felt herself cumming in its arms, basking in the release.   
"Bladder release detected." Cyborg noodle said. "Useless." And noodle felt herself fall off the stage, collapsing in a heap on the ground. "I will soon return the favor and coat you with my oiiiiiiilll diiiiisccchhh-" Cyborg noodle fell back asleep, the last of the power draining from it's body.  
"Gyp." someone said. "That was supposed to last a full hour at least."  
"Oi, noodle, give your girlfreind a tongue bath." Noodle put her hand up from where she flopped off the stage, and slapped it to the ground, trying to pull herself up. a puddle of beer was under her hand and she slipped, crashing to the ground again.   
"Eh, fuck that. Dumb bitch is too out of it."  
"Well, want to put the new fuck doll through its paces?"  
"Heh, which one?"  
"both, of course." Noodle could hear someone dragging the cyborg off of the stage. "Think we could fuck the hole in her head?"  
"Eh... lemme put a fleshlight in there."  
"Oh my god Frank, you have a fleshlight?"  
"Blow me." Someone pulled one of noodle's arms up, tugging her over so she was facing up. Someone else grabbed her legs, and the two slapped her onto a table. Noodle didn't really want to move, but she probably should, right? Someone got on top of her.  
"Mnah" noodle managed  
"What?"  
"Wear... wear some protection, ok?"  
"fuck no. Someone get this bitch the rest of her prize."  
"No, do it, I'm not on the pill and I can't afford-" she felt something go into her arm. "Caaaannn't affooooooordd" Everything went black.

Noodle woke up in the dark. She couldn't move her legs. Her mouth felt like it was broken open, which sucked because it also tasted pretty awful. She could feel her arms a little, but it was like throwing around a deflated balloon. She launched it into the air, and heard it slap against her stomach. She could also hear whatever was underneath her kind of shift a little, tin and metal and plastic and wrappers all shifting underneath. She couldn't tell if she was sinking or not. She couldn't even tell if she was cold or not. She should be, right? Or hot? Or hurting? Anything?  
Her small coffin suddenly exploded with light.   
"Oh, thank god you're still here." someone picked her up by the shoulders. "Thought you were the robot." Whoever it was, threw one of noodle's arms around his shoulder and started leading her back into the bar. It was good. It was all good. Noodle could hear something else getting thrown into the dumpster she was just brought out of. She could also hear her heartbeat slowing down. It was practically gone now. A few more seconds and she could just black out for the last time. The door opened.  
"Hey guys, check out who I found!" Noodle finally lost the last strength in her being and fell to the ground, blacking out.

Noodle woke up again on the mattress she'd owned, in the shack she didn't. Everything hurt. Her mouth tasted like an ash tray full of jizz, and the rest of her felt about as bad. She didn't move at first. Every minute thing she did felt like she was breaking a bone. She blinked and it felt like her eyelids were being torn off.   
Noodle felt like she'd come at the other side of something. Like victory she supposed. The same kind of victory that comes with going through your first pack of ciggarettes as a kid. Miserable, stupid, fucking pointless ass victory that will probably kill you, but victory none the less. A pyrric victo-  
Noodle sprang up, rolling off her mattress and threw up, coughing. Her head spun a few times and she looked down, trying to remember what the hell she'd even eaten. Yellow. And now her tongue was on fi-  
a second round. Yellow again. Everything hurt. STOP.  
A third. What the hell was going on?!


	3. the bad ending

Noodle giggled a little, feeling her tits and stomach sagging to the ground and the rough pavement under her hands and knees. The makeup clinging to her face felt like it'd frozen like the jizz in her hair, the collar dragging her along felt like it was chocking her, and the fishnets tracing little lines into everything but her holes, tits and belly felt like they were sucking her. She looked like a mess, it was going to be hilarious. That wasn't to say she didn't usually look like a mess, but jumping in front of those dumb ass paparazzi like this... like THIS?!... It'd blow their fucking mind.   
Slug had said he wanted her to get more customers. Her numbers had been slipping since her 'lil stowaway' had started becoming more and more obvious. There was always someone with a kink for it, but they were usually freaked out when she'd hop out and light the pipe, or push a bit of juice in her veins before.   
So now, noodle was banking on her old popularity. See if any old fans in NY wanted to make the trip to bust a load in a former guitarists face. Former guitarist, HA, like she could still play anymore. Between the shakes, and whatever was going on in her head right now, she could barely even remember touring.   
Noodle realized one of her hands was starting to drift behind her. God, she was so wet! She was going to debut herself, the 8 month pregnant crack whore on the street, to anyone that might have had any dwindling amount of respect for her left. God, this was going to be so hot. She started slowing down and began feeling the collar tugging at her throat, only making her more wet. Slug stopped, finally noticing the slowdown and why.   
"Aw, what's wrong lil noodle? Need some vitamin C?" Noddle nodded.  
"And some vitamin D, daddy! Please! Love me some vitamin D before the show!" She was trying to talk more. People laughed at the weird blend of accents, or made fun of it. Noodle loved that, kept her in her place.  
"Then spread em, I'm going in through the back." Noodle put her head against the street and grabbed her cheeks, parting them and feeling the familiar tug of 2 of her piercings. She could feel slug rubbing across her ass, getting hard from the hotdogging, could hear him open the baggy and shake out the contents. Noodle shut her eyes, felt her teeth sinking into her lips in anticipation, and-  
boom  
like a fuse trailing up a firework. She could feel everything. She could feel her heartbeat racing in her ears, every grain and rock under her hands, the gum under her right knee, the piercing in her ass as it shook against slug's dick, the one in her tongue and clit as they shook in ecstasy. She could see space, hear thoughts, explain life. Her mind fizzled and banged and exploded, crashing in time to the thrusts shoving deeper and deeper up her hole. Fuck it was perfect! She could feel every inch as it traveled deeper into her, slug pushing down to get a better angle, her kid thrashing around as it got it's fix. Mmm, fuck, this was why she could never quit! she was in paradise now, in paradise forever! She existed for this now!   
Noodle flexed her hole and rocked back and forth, trying to make it even better for slug. Slug grunted, finally at his limit, pulled out and shot over the bitches head and back. She felt it coating her, tracing along a few of her tattoos; the tramp stamp, slug's number, her old band name, and a few other more indecent ones. Noodle felt behind her, rubbing at her sopping pussy, and then noticed a splatter of cum had fallen in the road ahead of her, on top of a cigarette butt and next to someone's initials.  
Well... no use letting it go to waste, she thought to herself, bending down and feeling herself crest another beautiful orgasm.


	4. the dark ending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> to be read with 'frances farmer will have her revenge on seattle' by nirvana

wake up.  
Time?  
3am.  
good

The thing is screaming  
Hush... hush...  
don't say a word  
...  
better this way

Alex's desk  
baretta, 9mm. 9 rounds.  
...  
8 rounds

7  
6  
5, 4  
3,2-  
...need the last one.

familiar route  
crumpled bills  
canistor sloshes  
lighter warms

Destination  
Dump the canistor  
focus on the enterance  
move to the back

2 exits  
both covered  
drag the dumpster  
1 exit

Rag, lighter  
...  
fireworks  
have a seat

Crackling  
Alarms  
Screams  
pounding

spread  
inferno  
it's warm  
pretty

Sirens  
Different ones  
Coming close  
Doesn't drown out the screams

Waiting  
Screeching breaks  
one of them gets the hose  
put the gun to his temple

Can't stop staring  
leave a blanket of ash on the ground  
cold metal on his head  
Doesn't budge

last screams die  
Smiling  
Police are pointing  
turn around

-bang-


End file.
